patriots redcoats and spies

8/9/2019 Patriots Redcoats and Spies

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Patriots,R edcoats&

Spies


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R M.S. M D , Associate Professor,Department of History, United States MilitaryAcademy (West Point) says:

“I enjoyed Patriots, Redcoats and Spies immensely. What agreat read! I've been thinking about it all week. I am biasedtoward the subject and cause, but I suspect that even boysand girls with no such loyalties will find it compelling andenjoyable—and that it will cause them to want to know moreabout the American Revolution. This deserves to be widelyread, for it will do our country and the history of its originsthe important service of sparking curiosity about the Warfor Independence and the people who sacrificed so much tosecure America’s autonomy as a nation.”


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Patriots,R edcoats&

SpiesRobert J. Skead

with Robert A. Skead


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ZONDERKIDZ

Patriots, Redcoats and Spies Copyright © 2015 by Robert J. Skead

This title is also available as a Zondervan ebook.Visit www.zondervan.com/ebooks.

Requests for information should be addressed to:

Zonderkidz, 3900 Sparks Drive SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Skead, Robert, author.Patriots, Redcoats and spies : a Revolutionary War adventure / written by

Robert J. Skead with Robert A. Skead.pages cmSummary: When Revolutionary War patriot Lamberton Clark is shot by

the British, he enlists the help of his twin fourteen-year-old sons, John andAmbrose, to get a secret letter to General George Washington.

ISBN 978-0-310-74841-0 (hardback) — ISBN 978-0-310-74836-6 (epub)1. United States—History—Revolution, 1775-1783—Juvenile fiction. [1. United

States—History—Revolution, 1775-1783—Fiction. 2. Spies—Fiction. 3. Brothers—Fiction. 4. Twins—Fiction. 5. Christian life—Fiction.] I. Skead, Robert A.,author. II. Title.PZ7.S62582Pat 2015

[Fic]—dc22 2014031675

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible,New International Version®, NIV® . Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in aretrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means — electronic, mechani-cal, photocopy, recording, or any other — except for brief quotations in printedreviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

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Cover design: Deborah WashburnCover and interior illustration: Wilson OngInterior design and composition: Greg Johnson/Textbook Perfect

Printed in the United States of America

14 15 16 17 18 19 20 /DCI/ 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1


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Thank you for the endless hours of genealogy you spent proving we are in the Clark family bloodline

and Sons of the American Revolution, for instilling in me a love for our nation and history —

and for your outstanding creativity with this story.You never cease to amaze me.

What a joy it is to do this book series with you!


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Contents

1. Escape from New York . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 2. Double Trouble . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 3. Furious Lobsterbacks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33 4. It Must Be Fun to Be a Twin . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37 5. Thieves & Entertainers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 6. The Good Samaritan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61 7. The Bloody Hull & Tory Tattlers . . . . . . . . . . . 65 8. The King’s Ferry . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73 9. Hot Pursuit . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 10. The Other Side . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87 11. The Redcoat Sergeant Dressed Like a Farmer . . . . 89 12. It Couldn’t Get Any Worse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95 13. To Catch a Thief . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105 14. The Gopher Burrow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 115 15. Worth Dying For . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 131 16. The Road to the General . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 141 17. Nothing More Sacred than Good Intelligence . . 151 18. For Liberty & Sacred Honor . . . . . . . . . . . . 165 19. We Did It . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171


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Note from the Storytellers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175 Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 176Discussion Questions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177Historical Characters . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 180Glossary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183Letters by General George Washington . . . . . . . . . 186


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9

Chapte® 1

Escape fromNew Yo®k

Long Island, New York

July 1777

John Clark didn’t know which was worse: that he couldbarely see where he was going or that his heart waspounding so fast he thought it might pop out of his chest.With trembling hands, he shoved aside the tall reeds as hestruggled to maneuver his way through the darkness and

the fog. “I should never have listened to you,” he gasped tohis twin brother as they ran.

Ambrose stumbled over an invisible lump in the groundand nearly fell. “Why is it always my fault?” he panted.

“Because it always is!”Their father, Lamberton, brought up the rear, gliding

soundlessly through the fog. “It’s both your faults,” he said


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Patriots, Redcoats & Spies

through clenched teeth. “You will never follow me again. Iwill see to that.”

John glanced back. The darkness hid the look he knewhis father gave them. If only he had followed his gut, notlistened to his brother, and stayed on the mainland as hisfather had ordered. Then their lives wouldn’t be in danger.They wouldn’t be running through the dark, desperately

searching for their boat while the enemy closed in.As if in response to his thoughts, a shot rang out. Johndove to the ground. His father and brother landed inches fromhim as a musket ball cut through the reeds a few feet away.

Too close. Closing his eyes, John tried to still his heavingchest and waited for another shot. Would this be the onethat met its mark?

I don’t want to die. God , help me. Help us.Silence. He opened his eyes again to see his father nod-

ding at him. With a deep breath, John bolted to his feet andraced through the tall grass towards the water. His fatherand brother matched every step.

“Hurry up, brother,” came Ambrose’s trembling voice.“I’m almost running you over.”

“I’m going as fast as I can.” Eyes straining, John searchedthe fog for his father’s sailboat. His legs burned as he sum-moned his last bit of strength and leaped over a small gul-ley. A film of sweat covered his forehead and body.

Please God , lift this fog , if only for a moment . A soft splish rose from his next step. “We’re at the water’s edge,” he hissed.

“We’re close!”


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Escape from New Yo®k

The three slowed down, their footsteps gently paddingalong the shore as they searched the mist for the shape oftheir boat. They were running out of time.

Another shot rang out. It sliced through the grass abouttwo feet to John’s left. The two Redcoats were trying theirluck. Shooting in the dark.

“They can’t run and reload at the same time in this

marsh,” their father whispered. “That’s good.”“Patriot pig! I’ll kill you!” shouted a voice behind them.The soldier sounded to be about fifty yards away. Too close.

A second voice followed. “If he doesn’t, I will!”“They think there’s only one of us,” said Ambrose with

a shaky grin.Their father nodded. “That’s why they only sent two

men after us . . . or me.”“It’s the fog.” John peeked over his shoulder. No one

could be seen. The Redcoats had surely stopped runningand were reloading. If they survived, their father’s punish-ment for their impatience and disobedience would surelybe severe. John picked up speed again along the rocky shoreand then stumbled, throwing out an arm. Ambrose caughtand steadied him.

“One lucky shot and one of us is dead or wounded,” theirfather said. “You boys stay in front of me. And stay low.” His voice was tense. John felt sick to his stomach. How could hehave gotten them into this mess?

The three continued along the shoreline, picking their

way around rocks and weeds. Suddenly, a white light


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pierced the mist from above. Thank God. John glanced upat the half moon and scanned the shoreline ahead for theirsixteen-foot skiff. It lay anchored somewhere close by, hewas sure of it. He just couldn’t see it. He rounded a gentlecurve in the shoreline, and then there it was — their boat,rocking gently on the waves about thirty feet away.

They entered the water, forcing themselves to slide

slowly so they didn’t splash. Seconds later, thick clouds hidthe moon again.Ambrose grabbed the rope attached to the anchor near

the bow of the boat and gently pulled it up while Lambertonplaced his left leg over the side of the boat and rolled him-self inside. Ambrose dropped the anchor inside the hull asJohn heaved himself into the craft, followed a moment later

by his brother. The two of them crouched against the hullof the boat and ducked their heads.

“Guess we’ll have to come back another day for the row-boat we borrowed,” John whispered, locking eyes with hisbrother.

Lamberton had already begun to raise the sail. As hehauled on the line, the craft turned into the wind.

“There he is!” a voice echoed over the water. John peekedover the edge of the boat and spotted two Redcoats emerg-ing from the reeds on the shore, guns raised.

The wind howled fiercely as waves rocked the boat inthe Long Island Sound, but it caught the sail and sent themspeeding into open water. John caught one last glimpse of

the Redcoats before they faded through the fog. Just then,


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another shot exploded in the air, and his father jerked andgrunted. John turned to see red blooming on Lamberton’sback. The musket ball had ripped through the flesh abovehis right shoulder blade.

“Dad!” John’s voice caught in his throat.His father fell to his knees as a second shot whizzed by

and plunked into the water. The wind was blowing away

the fog, allowing the soldiers better aim. John looked at hisbrother. Did his own face look as frightened as his twin’s?“Ambrose, get us out of here.” Lamberton sat down

heavily in the bottom of the boat near John and motionedhis hand toward the other side of the bay. Seconds later,he fell back with a groan, thumping into John’s arms. Johnstruggled to support the sudden weight.

With a gasp, Ambrose lurched up and tied off the sail,then grabbed control of the tiller. Ducking back down, hesteered the boat away from the shore toward Connecticut.

Behind them, the sounds of cursing carried across thewater.

As the skiff skipped rapidly over the waves, John bracedhis legs against the floor and pushed his father’s shoulderaway so he could inspect his back. Blood soaked throughthe shirt. John knew he had to stop the bleeding. But how?

Settling his father gently on his stomach, John fran ticallysearched the hull for a rag. He found one tucked under anold buoy and placed it over his father’s wound. His handswere trembling. “Are you all right?”

No response. John’s heart skipped a beat.


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“Dad?” Ambrose’s voice shook even as he smoothlynavigated them away from danger. He was sitting a few feetaway, gripping the tiller with white knuckles.

“I’ll be all right,” their father said, his voice little louderthan a whisper. After a pause, he tried to roll over and sit up.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Dad?” John asked as heslowly guided his father back into a sitting position. “Don’t

you want to lie down?” A beam of moonlight reflected offJohn’s blood-soaked hand. Ambrose shuddered.Their father reached over his shoulder and covered

John’s hand, putting pressure on his wound. “I’m all right,”their father said again, though his voice was still shaky. “Idon’t think it hit anything vital.” He took a shallow breath.

“We’ll get you to a doctor,” said John. Salty water sprayed

in his face as the boat bounced over a wave. He wiped hiseyes on his sleeve.

Their father closed his eyes and leaned his shoulderagainst the side of the boat. He winced as it hit a wave andhe thudded against the side. “Steer us to where I left youboys yesterday, Ambrose — where you were supposed to bewaiting for me.” He opened his eyes and looked pointedly ateach of them. Even through the pain clearly written on hisface, John could see his disapproval. “Fourteen-year-oldsshould know enough to obey their father.”

Ambrose pounded the side of the hull. “If you’d comeback when you said you would, we would have stayedwhere we were.” His tone was both surly and guilty. “I felt

we had to do it.”


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John glared at him before turning back to their father.“We never should have left to find you. I’m sorry.” Headjusted the rag and pressed harder on the wound. His fin-gertips were already slick with blood, and John fought backa wave of nausea. “But why were those men chasing us?What did you do? And why’d you have us slit those sails?”A wave bounced him in his seat, and his father breathed in

sharply. “Dad?”His father’s face was twisted in pain, and for a momenthe said nothing. “Thank Providence for the fog and thatthey didn’t see you with me,” he said at last. He paused andgingerly reached back to touch the rag John still held. “ButI wish I could see the look on their faces when they discoverthe slashed sails.”

Not for the first time that night, John thought backthrough the events of the last hours. When their fatherhad asked John and Ambrose to wait for him on the oppo-site side of the sound, he told them that he’d be back inseveral hours. He was just going to visit with a friend inNew York to talk about making some new masts for him.He never mentioned he was going to check out the Britishships to make sure they weren’t preparing for an attack onConnecticut or that he had arranged some sort of secretmeeting. When he took too long to return, the boys worriedand went to find him. The next thing they knew, they werehelping him cut British sails and running for their lives.

“It’ll be some time before they’re seaworthy again,” said

Ambrose. “As a seaman, I didn’t enjoy destroying them.”


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“It will take a bigger effort to launch one of their largerships to come after me,” Lamberton replied. He winced asJohn removed the rag and then quickly replaced it withmore pressure. The wound was still bleeding heavily.“They’ll do it,” Lamberton said through gritted teeth. “Butit will take at least an hour. Maybe two.”

“Why are they after you?” John asked. He shielded his

eyes from another wash of spray as the skiff sliced throughthe water.With a grimace, Lamberton reached for his left breast

pocket, hissing as he carefully pulled out a leather case.“Because of this. Or rather what’s inside it.”

John struggled to steady his voice. “What’s inside it?”“A very special letter.”

Ambrose looked over his shoulder from where he steeredand leaned in to get a better look. “To whom?” he asked. “Orfrom whom?”

Lamberton held the case over his heart.“What are you going to do with it?” John peered at the

case. There was nothing particularly unusual about it. Ithad a single flap with a metal buckle, and the leather hadbeen worn smooth in spots from use.

Lamberton looked out at the dark waters of the bay. Heshifted his weight, winced, and turned back to Ambrose andJohn. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft. “I hoped it wouldn’tcome to this.”

John held his breath. What was he talking about?

Lamberton cleared his throat. When he continued,


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his voice was louder. “What’s in this case is extremelyimportant.”

“What’s inside?” John asked. He glanced at the leathercase his father still held to his chest.

“A message to George Washington. I don’t know what itsays, but I know the contents are extremely time sensitive.”He paused. “It’s from a man we call Culper. The message is

in invisible ink.” Lamberton bit his lower lip and closed hiseyes. “I’m supposed to deliver it. But I’m afraid now I can’tfinish my mission.”

“You’re . . . a spy?” John asked. John and Ambroseexchanged an incredulous look.

Their father adjusted his position. “I guess you couldsay that,” he breathed. “I prefer the term patriot .” Suddenly,

the skiff hit a large wave and Lamberton’s back slammedagainst John’s knee. Lamberton inhaled sharply.

Placing his free hand on his father’s shoulder, John said,“We’ll get you to a doctor.” He hoped he sounded calmerthan he felt.

“Then you can finish your mission,” Ambrose added.He pointed the craft’s tiller toward the dark Fairfield,Connecticut, shore, his brown hair fluttering in the wind.“After you get that ball removed and heal that shoulder.”

Lamberton shook his head. His breathing was growingshallower, and even in the dim moonlight John could seethat his father’s face was pale. He had lost a lot of blood.

“Right, Dad?” John asked. He didn’t like seeing his father

look so weak. His father was never weak.


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“I’m afraid there’s no time for that.” Lamberton lookedat each of his sons in turn, sweat gleaming on his forehead.“That letter needs to get to Washington as soon as possible,and I’m in no condition to deliver it.”

A gust of wind jolted the boat, and John had to grip theside to keep from bouncing out. “Can’t someone else take it?”

Lamberton shook his head. His voice had grown very

faint, and John had to lean in to hear him above the waves.“I’ve been compromised,” he whispered.“What?” John stared back. “By someone you know?”“Could be. Maybe someone in Connecticut or New York.

We may never know.” An extreme weariness came into hisfather’s eyes, but whether it was from the bullet wound orsomething else, John wasn’t sure. “Those Redcoats shouldn’t

have been so close behind me.” Lamberton paused to catchhis breath. “The truth is I don’t know whom I can trust.” Heeyed them intently. “I had hoped this wouldn’t be the case,but . . . Now, I only have two hopes for getting this secretmessage to George Washington.” Lamberton took a shallowbreath. “And I’m looking at them.”


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Chapte® 2

DoubleT®ouble

Us?” John threw a frantic look at Ambrose. His father

couldn’t mean that they should become spies. He wasinjured. He had lost a lot of blood. Clearly he wasn’t think-ing straight.

“We’ll do it,” Ambrose said immediately, nodding. Heobviously didn’t have the same reservations.

“We’ll what?” John demanded. “You can’t be serious. Us?Spies? We only turned fourteen last month.”

“Not spies,” his father said. “Patriots.” He paused andhis brown eyes, normally so stern and hard, looked at Johngently. John looked away. “You’re the only two people I cantrust. And there’s no time to find anyone else.”

John watched his father’s head bob and eyes grow weary.“As couriers,” Lamberton panted, “your youth will help

you not to be stopped and questioned.”


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“But, Dad.” John felt on the verge of panic.“I’m sorry to ask this of you, John.” His father’s voice was

a whisper. “You’ll be safer together. The two of you, like it’salways been. Nathan Hale was only twenty when he joinedthe Cause. And I . . .” He shifted and groaned slightly. “Ican’t do it myself.” He sighed deeply. “I’m exhausted,” hewhispered. A few moments later, John felt his father’s body

go limp in his arms. He had either fallen asleep or passedout — John wasn’t sure.“Ambrose, get us to shore fast!” John cried, his voice

catching in his throat.Ambrose aimed the tiller so the skiff avoided a large

wave. “I’m doing the best I can! I can’t believe you don’twant to help him.”

John looked up at his brother. “I do want to help — helphim get to a doctor.”

John gazed into the darkness of the early morninghours. If only he were more like his father. He’d wait untilthey arrived on shore and somehow talk his dad into find-ing someone else.

å å åFinally, an hour later, beams of golden light began to bathethe clouds in the east. As the Clark-family skiff slicedthrough the chop of the Long Island Sound, John’s eyesremained riveted on the Connecticut shore. How couldhe convince his father to find another person to carry the


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Double T®ouble

letter? He knew that his father’s identity had been compro-mised, but surely there was someone — someone — thathis father trusted. John pursed his lips and glanced at thebloody rag on his father’s back. He was worried about howmuch blood his father had lost. It couldn’t be good. In thesoft light, John could see how pale and clammy his face was.John’s eyes shifted to the precious case his father clutched

against his chest. What was in the letter it contained?Something that could change the course of the war? Hisfather said it had to get to General Washington fast.

Was it really going to be up to him and Ambrose tomake that happen?

As a familiar bend in the shoreline swung into view,Ambrose called out. “There’s the spot!” He aimed the craft

toward the beach. John looked down as their father stirred.His eyes cracked open, but he made no move to sit up.

The vessel hit the sandy shore with a jolt. The brothers jumped into the water, and John planted his feet firmly intothe sand to keep his balance while he and Ambrose tuggedthe boat as far onto the shore as possible. John helped hisfather out of the boat and onto the dry sand. Ambrosequickly wrapped the sail around the mast, tied a sailor’sknot to secure it, and lowered it out of view.

Lamberton took a few unsteady steps and fell to hisknees, then rested there as John knelt at his side. Ambroseflanked him on the other side.

“I’ll be all right.” Their father waved them away. “Don’t

worry.” He grunted in pain as he checked his wound. The


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Double T®ouble

“We will, Dad,” Ambrose said.“Can’t we get you to a doctor first?” John implored.

“Please, Dad?” A gentle wind blew sand against his feet andlegs.

“No. There’s no time for that. I was told that this letteris of the utmost importance. Vital news for Washington.You have to help your country first. Now is your time.”

Lamberton waved the boys in closer. “Take this to theGeneral. Remember. Tell him it’s from Culper Junior. Themessage is in invisible ink. You got that?”

“But — ” John started to speak again, only to be cut offby his father’s upraised hand.

“Trust no one,” added Lamberton. “Those loyal to theking pose as patriots. They can and will deceive you, and

if caught, you’ll either be handed over as traitors or . . .” Hebraced himself. “Or killed on the spot as such. Both sideshave spies everywhere.”

“Like you?” Ambrose said proudly. He had obviouslyignored the “killed” comment that was making John sickto his stomach.

“Like us,” their father replied. He grunted in pain, andheld out the leather case.

John stared at it. He glanced at his brother, whose facegrew serious, then reached for the case. It was rough andsturdy.

Ambrose assured his father. “We’ll be careful. No onewill be trusted. We’re just a couple of kids traveling to see

some relatives.”


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“That’s right.” Lamberton let out a slight moan as herose to his feet. He stood firmly for a moment, then startedto sink back to his knees. Ambrose’s arms quickly came tohis aid. John placed his right arm around his father’s waist.

Flanked by both his sons, Lamberton said, “Don’t worryabout me. I’ll find help. You just go.” He took a shaky stepforward. “And whatever you do . . . don’t get caught.”

John exhaled. They hanged spies. Like Nathan Hale.His father must have read his mind. He looked at John,then Ambrose, squarely in the eye. “I would never ask youto do this if I didn’t think there was any other way.” For asecond, tears seemed to fill their father’s eyes, but they weregone before John could be sure he had really seen them. “I’mproud of you.” The brothers reached the grass and releasedtheir father. They stood by his side for a moment, makingsure he could stand.

John dreaded this final goodbye. “How will we knowwho the general is?” he stalled.

“He’ll be the tallest one,” said Lamberton. “He stands atsix foot three.”

“He’ll also be the one they call general, big brother,”Ambrose said.

Lamberton nodded and steadied himself on the trunk ofa tree. “Every message to Washington must be delivered asquickly as possible. This is a war of information and wits.”Their father turned to John. “You have my musket?”

“Yes, we left it over there, hidden with the other one.”

“Good. You know what’s special about mine, right?”


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Double T®ouble

John nodded.“Good. Now go. And go fast. Mind every word I said.

Stay together and trust no one.”“Okay,” said John. He didn’t trust himself to say more.Uncharacteristically, Ambrose leaned in to his father’s

side. He spoke almost formally. “We’ll find GeneralWashington. Don’t worry. You have my word.” He grabbed

his father’s good shoulder. “I love you, Father.”Their father smiled at him in return. He gave the samesmile to John. “How many times do I have to tell you? Go!”

The brothers turned and sprinted toward the campsitewhere they had been waiting for their father the day before.As they ran, John glanced at the Long Island Sound. Sailshad appeared on the horizon. British sails. His father was

right. The Redcoats would be searching everywhere.Father is always right.Moments later, John and Ambrose reached their camp.

John quickly knelt down, opened his satchel, and carefullysecured the case containing the letter. “I hope the words inthat letter really are important enough for us to risk ourlives,” he said.

“Dad says they are and that’s good enough for me.”Ambrose picked up their blankets and the muskets theyhad hidden in the brush earlier.

John eyed his brother. “It’s good enough for me too. Iwas just — ”

“We better move fast.”

Frustrated, John fastened his satchel. Did Ambrose


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think him too weak, too easily frightened? “Yes. We have alot to figure out and a lot of territory to cover.”

“I wish we had our muskets when those Redcoats wereshooting at us,” said Ambrose.

“I wasn’t going to risk ruining or losing our weapons inthat rinky-dink rowboat you suggested we borrow,” Johnsnapped. “And we do have to get that boat back.”

“We’ll get it back,” Ambrose said. “Later.”I hope so. But when? John had had every intention ofreturning the rowboat when they decided to use it. It painedhim to think that by not returning it, they’d essentiallystolen it.

Maybe someone else will find it and return it to its owner.John gave the campsite a final perusal to make sure they

had everything. This wouldn’t be their last time in Fairfield,would it? John hoped not. A lump formed in his throat.“Let’s go, Ambrose.”

“Yes, let’s go.”As Ambrose took hold of his satchel, his face suddenly lit

up. He reached inside his bag and pulled out his fife. BeforeJohn knew it, Ambrose was running back in the directionof their father with his fife in hand. He disappeared aroundthe bend and returned a few minutes later, empty-handed.

“I gave it to Dad,” Ambrose said. “Just in case he needsto make a loud noise or call for help.”

“Good idea,” John said, knowing his brother hadgiven his father one of his most prized possessions. “Now,

let’s go.”


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Double T®ouble

å å å

The woods along the Connecticut shoreline lay thick withtrees — mostly pine and some oak. John and Ambrose scur-ried along a narrow path, jumping over fallen logs and largerocks and dodging low-hanging branches.

Fighting an urge to yawn, John pushed his body to con-

tinue. He knew they needed to get far from the shorelinebefore the Redcoats landed and began their search, but hewas exhausted from lack of sleep. They would need a map tofind the fastest route to Morristown. Someone would haveto give them directions. John’s thoughts turned to his fatherwhere they had left him on the shore. Would he find help?What if the bleeding started again? What if a loyalist found

him? Or the Redcoats? John kept jogging, one foot in frontof the other. He wouldn’t think about it.

Instead John watched his brother. The twins were iden-tical, but only in looks. Anyone who knew them could tellthe difference as soon as one of them opened his mouth.The Clark boys shared the same straight brown hair, thesame noble nose and firm jawline. They had the same laugh.But in matters of humor and will they were as different asthey could be. John knew Ambrose considered this trip anadventure. John himself was terrified.

“What do you think’s in that letter?” Ambrose said sud-denly, examining the position of the rising sun.

“Who knows? But Dad got shot for it, so it’s not some

stupid love letter, that’s for sure.”


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“I can’t believe Dad’s a spy,” Ambrose said as he leapt upand off a rock.

How did he have so much energy? “Bet he’s the best onethey have,” said John.

Ambrose nodded. “Agreed.”John gave his brother a startled look. At least there was

one thing they could agree upon.

After about an hour, the shade of the woods disappearedas the trees thinned and they came to a field and farm. Thebrothers stared momentarily at the fork in the path. To theright was the way home. The way their father would fol-low — if he could make it that far. To the left, a small villageand ultimately the route to New Jersey. Looking down theroad that led home, John paused, then went that way.

“What are you doing?” Ambrose demanded.“Going home to get help. We can use our horses,” said

John. “Or better yet, maybe Enoch or Samuel can do thisfor us,” he said, naming two of their older brothers. Deepinside, he knew only Berty could possibly have the skills todo it, but he was with the militia and not at home.

Ambrose bolted forward and stood in front of hisbrother. “We can’t do that! We live too far away. We’d losetime by going all the way there and back. Dad said it had tobe us. Our age is on the mission’s side. Mom would never letus — or them — go. If that was an option, Dad would havesuggested it.”

“I don’t care. I’m going.” John took a step to the left.

Ambrose pushed his brother in the chest. “No, you’re


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Double T®ouble

not. Dad said we have to hurry and deliver that letter. If youdon’t want to do it, then give me the letter. I’ll go alone.”

John snorted. “Yeah, like I’m going to let that happen.”Ambrose crossed his arms. “I could do it without you.”“You’d get yourself killed.”“I can do it. Give me the letter.” Ambrose held out his

hand.

John shook his head. “I listened to you before, and weended up messing up Dad’s mission and almost gettingkilled.”

“But this is not about listening to me,” said Ambrose.“It’s about obeying Dad.”

John opened his mouth to retort — then closed it again.Narrowing his eyes, he considered all the options, all the

possibilities. There was no escaping it — as much as hehated to admit it, his twin was right. They’d already got-ten into this mess by disobeying their father once. Theycouldn’t do it again.

With a huff, John looked at Ambrose and frowned. “Allright. We’ll go that way.” With a last glance at the safety ofhome, he turned on his heels and pushed past his brotherand down the path toward New Jersey.


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Note f®omthe Sto®ytelle®s

The Culper spy ring actually began operating in thesummer of 1778. It was established at the request ofGeneral George Washington who desperately needed reli-able information about the activities and plans of the com-manding officers of the British Army and Navy who wereheadquartered on New York Island.

Major Benjamin Talmadge was given the assignment,

and he organized a small group of patriots who lived amongthose who were loyal to the British cause. It was a very dan-gerous mission since discovery meant certain death.

When information was gathered, it was sent overlandby a courier as a written or coded message. The rider leftfrom New York to a point on the Long Island shore (usuallyin the area of Setauket). Another courier then carried it byboat across Long Island Sound to Connecticut. From there,couriers would ride to the point of Washington’s currentheadquarters. It took days or weeks for all of this to happen,and often the information was too old to be useful, so speedwas of the essence.

Without these courageous patriots the outcome of the

war might have cost us our quest for freedom.


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Acknowledgements

Nothing great happens alone, and my father and I wouldespecially like to thank the special editors who helped

make our story and words sing. We are grateful for the tal-ents of Mary Hassinger, Leslie Peterson, and Britta Eastburgfrom HarperCollins Chris tian Publishing/Zondervan. Andthis book would not have happened were it not for KimChildress, formerly of Zondervan, who believed in the storyfrom the start and served as our biggest fan and champion.Thank you all for loving our story and characters as muchas we do.


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Discussion Questions

1. Why did the colonists call themselves patriots?

2. Why did the British royalty, Redcoats, or those loyal toKing George see patriots as traitors?

3. If you were given John and Ambrose’s mission, wouldyou have accepted it? Why or why not?

4. What role did fear or extreme concern play in John’slife? What are some things that make you feel that way?

5. Why did George Washington need a spy ring?

6. Why did the British military leadership need spies?

7. Ambrose had a talent for juggling (among many otherthings). John was an expert marksman and snarebuilder. What are your talents? How can you use themfor a fulfilled life?

8. Ambrose said, “And so I want you all to keep your eyeson liberty, and if you do, we all shall have it.” What doyou think he meant by that? Explain your thinking.

9. When John’s horse and gun were stolen, he didn’t giveup. Have you ever been in a situation when you had a“never quit” attitude? Write about it.

10. What freedoms are worth dying for?


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11. Why is freedom not free?

12. Why is loyalty an important virtue? How can you showthat you are loyal to a person or organization?

13. Define bravery. When did John display bravery? Whendid Ambrose show he was braver? When have you dis-played bravery in your life?

14. In the story, John appreciated Ambrose’s “smarts.”Define wisdom. When did Ambrose show wisdom?John? Why is wisdom important to have?

15. John thought about what made his dad special, andpart of that was that he did the right thing — even indifficult circumstances. Is that what you want too?How can you know what the right thing to do is?

16. What were some of the hardships and challenges of thecontinental soldiers and how did these affect them?

17. In the story and in real life, George Washington said,“Things at present have a dark and gloomy aspect.However, we should never despair. Our situation beforehas been unpromising . . . and has changed for the bet-

ter, so I trust it will again. We will put forth new exer-tions and proportion our efforts to the urgency of thetimes.” Why is it important to keep hope alive whenbad things happen? What does Washington’s last sen-tence in the quote mean?


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Discussion Questions

18. Although Ambrose and John are twins, they have dif-ferent personalities. Describe how they are similar andhow they are different and explain why you think this.

19. How has John and Ambrose’s relationship changedover time and why do you think this has happened?

20. How has your life been impacted by the outcome of theAmerican Revolution and other peoples’ sacrifices asillustrated in this novel?


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Histo®ical Cha®acte®s

JOHN BURGOYNE , General(24 February 1722 — 4 August 1792)

John Burgoyne was a British army officer, politician, andplaywright. Appointed to command a force designated tocapture Albany and end the rebellion, General Burgoyneadvanced south from Canada, but soon found himself sur-rounded and outnumbered by American forces. He foughttwo battles at Saratoga, but was forced to surrender his army

of 5,000 men to the American troops on October 17, 1777.

CHARLES CORNWALLIS, General(31 December 1738 — 5 October 1805)

General Charles Cornwallis was one of the leading Britishgenerals in the American War of Independence. He sur-rendered in 1781 to a combined American and French forceat the Siege of Yorktown, which ended significant hostilitiesin North America.


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Histo®ical Cha®acte®s

THOMAS GAGE , General(1720 — 2 April 1787)

Thomas Gage fought in the French and Indian War, wherehe served alongside future opponent George Washington.From 1763 to 1775, Gage was commander-in-chief of theBritish forces in North America. In 1774, he served as themilitary governor of the Province of Massachusetts Bay

where he attempted to implement the Intolerable Acts,which punished Massachusetts for the Boston Tea Party.His attempts to seize Patriot military stores sparked theBattles of Lexington and Concord, beginning the AmericanWar of Independence. After the Battle of Bunker Hill in1775, General William Howe replaced him, and Gagereturned to Britain.

CALEB GIBBS(1748 — 1818)

Caleb Gibbs was a captain in the Fourteenth MassachusettsRegiment. In 1776, General Washington picked Gibbs tocommand his newly established personal guard, officially

known as the “Commander-in-Chief’s Guard ,” and unof-ficially called the “Life Guards.” It was a unique position.Gibbs was considered a member of General Washington’sfamily, but he was also an army officer with combat com-mand. In addition to protecting the Commander-in-Chiefand the headquarters, Gibbs was responsible for selecting


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defensible quarters for General Washington and his staffwhen the army was on the move.

NATHAN HALE(June 6, 1755 — September 22, 1776)

Hale was a young but passionate soldier for the ContinentalArmy. When he was twenty-one, Hale volunteered for an

intelligence-gathering mission in New York City, but theBritish captured him. He is best remembered for his lastwords before being hanged: “I only regret that I have butone life to give for my country.”

HENDRIK VAN ALLEN (or VanAulen)

Hendrik Van Allen built and owned a Dutch Colonial farm-house located in what is now Oakland, New Jersey. GeneralGeorge Washington used this home and its surrounding200 acres of farmland as his headquarters July 14–15, 1777,when he moved his troops over “extremely deep and miryroads” from Morristown, New Jersey to Smith’s Clove, NewYork. The house is on Ramapo Valley Road, which was a

key military highway for troops and supply units during theRevolutionary War.


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Glossa®y

Culper Spy Ring British forces occupied New York inAugust 1776, and the city remained a British strongholdand a major naval base for the rest of the RevolutionaryWar. Though getting information from New York aboutBritish troop movements and other plans was critical toGeneral George Washington, there was simply no reli-able intelligence network that existed on the Patriot side.But that changed in 1778 when a young cavalry officernamed Benjamin Tallmadge established a small groupof trustworthy men and women from his hometown ofSetauket, Long Island. Known as the Culper Spy Ringafter the aliases of its main members, Samuel Culper, Sr.and Samuel Culper, Jr., Tallmadge’s network became themost effective of any intelligence-gathering operation oneither side during the Revolutionary War.

Kings Ferry The Kings Ferry was a major crossing pointon the North (Hudson) River during the time of theRevolutionary War. It was located several miles south ofthe fort at West Point and connected Verplanck’s Pointon the east side of the Hudson with Stony Point on thewest side. Since the British controlled New York City

for most of the war, Kings Ferry was the southernmost


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crossing point that Americans could safely use to trans-port personnel and supplies. It was also an importantcommunication line between the north and the south,which made Kings Ferry a strategic target for the British.

Lobsterback A slang term used by Americans for Britishsoldiers because the red coats worn by the British resem-bled the red shells of cooked lobsters.

Loyalists American colonists who remained loyal to GreatBritain during the American Revolutionary War; theywere also called Tories, Royalists, or King’s Men. Theywere opposed by the Patriots, those who supported therevolution. When their cause was defeated, about twentypercent of the Loyalists fled to other parts of the British

Empire, many to Ontario and New Brunswick, Canada.It has been estimated that between fifteen and twentypercent of the European-American population of thecolonies were Loyalists.

Musket A muzzle-loaded, smooth bore long gun, firedfrom the shoulder. Muskets were designed for use by

infantry and included a bayonet.North River The North River was also referred to as the

Hudson River on some maps in the eighteenth century.It is commonly called the Hudson River today.

Redcoat A British soldier so named because of the redcolor of their uniform jacket.


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Lette®s byGene®al

Geo®ge Washington

W V A ’

Head Quarters, at Van Aulen’s, July 14, 1777.Parole — . Countersigns — .

Each Major General will order the guards necessary for thesecurity of his own division.

The Quarter Master General with his deputies will markout the ground for the encampment of each division to mor-row — And as the army will arrive on its ground early in theday; as soon as the Men are settled in their quarters, theOfficers are critically to inspect their arms and accoutre-ments, and have them put in the best order possible — TheCommander in Chief was surprised today to see the badcondition of many arms they being not only unfit for fire,but very rusty, which latter defect it is certainly in the powerof every man to prevent, and the neglect of it must arisefrom an inexcusable inattention of the officers.


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Lette®s by Gene®al Geo®ge Washington

The tents are to be struck at gun-firing tomorrow morn-ing (which will be at the usual time) and the whole army gotready to march. At five o’clock one field piece is to be fired;and then the march is to begin; and as the baggage of eachbrigade will join its brigade to night, ’tis to follow close afterit tomorrow. The whole army to march of from the left,in half platoons, the brigades following each other in the

order observed this day, saving that the baggage (as beforedirected) will immediately follow the brigade to which itbelongs — As the distance is not great, no part of the armyis to halt ‘till it arrives at the ground for encamping.

If it should rain tomorrow morning, the army is toremain in its present encampment.

On a march neither officer, nor soldier, is to pay a salute,

or pull of the hat to the Commander in Chief, or other offi-cer passing by.

Van Aulens, 8 Miles from Pompton Plains, July 14, 1777

To THE PRESIDENT OF CONGRESS

Sir: I arrived here this afternoon with the Army, after a very

fatiguing March, owing to the Roads which have becomeextremely deep and miry from the late Rains. I intend toproceed in the Morning towards the North River, if theWeather permits; At present it is cloudy and heavy andthere is an Appearance of more Rain.

By the Express, who will deliver this, I just now reced.a Letter from Genl. Schuyler, advising for the first time,


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that General St Clair is not in the Hands of the Enemy. Asthe Express has a large Packet for Congress from GeneralSchuyler, I presume they will be informed of all theIntelligence he was possessed of respecting our Affairs inhis department, and therefore I shall not trouble them witha Copy of his Letter to myself upon the Subject. I should behappy if they had a more agreeable aspect than they seem

to have. I am &ca.


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Check out this excerpt from chapter one of

Submarines, Secrets & a Daring Rescuebook two in the American RevolutionaryWar Adventures series!

Chapter 1

G , CA ,

Ambrose Clark felt the cold, sharp blade of a bayonet onthe back of his neck. “Both of you, be quiet,” a voice

hissed in his ear. “Don’t move a muscle.”Ambrose froze, his heart pounding. His twin brother

John had turned and was looking at the man behindAmbrose, his mouth open slightly in shock. Beyond him,in the darkness, Ambrose could make out a small roomstacked high with wooden kegs.

“Don’t say a word either.” The owner of the bayonetgrabbed Ambrose’s upper arm and shifted the blade to theside of his neck. Not hard enough to slice a layer of skin, buthard enough to send a message that he was quite serious.

Ambrose’s mind raced. Was this man friend or foe? Heknew John was wondering the exact same thing. Don’t doanything stupid John … like attack this guy. I like my neck.

And I like my blood inside my body where it belongs.The


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blade had been placed directly over Ambrose’s jugular vein.With one quick slice, Ambrose could be dead.

“Don’t even think about doing anything rash to help yourcomrade here.” The man did not speak loudly, but Ambrosedid not doubt the seriousness of his threats. “If my bladedoesn’t kill, it could easily cripple.” The man’s voice wasgruff and deep belonging to someone older and seasoned in

combat.Ambrose looked at John, who nodded slowly at the man .How did they not hear this man get behind them? The featseemed impossible to Ambrose. His senses had been onhigh alert for the past fifteen minutes as they approachedthe dark buildings of the Stocking grist mill and gunpow-der factory. He had only walked ten feet inside the build-

ing when he was met by that voice and blade. Had he beenhiding in the dark somewhere inside or outside? How didhe move so quietly with not even the wooden floor beneathhim creaking? More than anything Ambrose wanted to tellthe man who they were and why they were there. But hehad told them not to speak. His eyes drifted slowly to Johnwho matched his steady look. Through the shadows andover his twin’s shoulder he could barely make out the imageof large wood and iron machinery. Ambrose took a chanceand opened his mouth to speak.

“We—” The blade stung as it pressed harder into hisneck, and he quickly swallowed the rest of his sentence.Ambrose felt beads of sweat run down his forehead and

the slope of his nose. His tan cotton shirt dampened with


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Lette®s by Gene®al Geo®ge Washington

perspiration. If only their brother Berty were inside withthem.

“I said don’t make a sound,” the man hissed. “Now, whenI tell you to move I want you both to walk slowly to the dooryou just used to get it here. Remember, this is a gunpowderfactory. Don’t even think about using that pistol you havetucked in your pants, young man,” he said to John. “One

false move with that and we could all meet our Maker inan instant. Now, move slowly and quietly.” A hand wavedin Ambrose’s peripheral vision, and John started walking.Then Ambrose felt a nudge in his lower back.

Ambrose slowly turned and followed his brother towardthe door. Of all the doors to enter this place they had tochoose the one guarded by a watchman with Indian-like

skills and a sharp bayonet—who was obviously not afraid touse it first and ask questions later. They had no choice but tofollow his commands. If only Ambrose had his knife. Thenhe could show this guy what a super sharp blade looked like.If there was one skill Ambrose had greater than most it washis ability to strike the smallest target with his knife. Theability had won him bets of skill with men twice his sizeand age. But it was no good wishing for it now. Ambrosestepped carefully so no sudden movements or trippingwould make the blade on his neck accidentally draw blood.The floor under his feet creaked. Why hadn’t they heard itwhen the man snuck across the boards behind them?

John slowly turned his head. His face reflected his alarm.

Ambrose exited the building behind John and stepped


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into the dim light of a half moon. He knew his brother felthelpless. The feel of smooth dirt was under his feet as hetook a few steps forward. Large rocks trimmed garden bedsthat looked like they wanted to bloom. Ambrose listenedto the sound of Roaring Brook trickling beside them. Thelarge wheel that had operated the gristmill stood still, deac-tivated during nonworking hours. The water running over

the rocks sounded like tiny voices calling to him. If only hecould speak too.

å å å

Down the road, Berty Clark held the reins of the threehorses belonging to him and his two younger brothers.

What was taking them so long? All they had to do was findGeorge Stocking, wake him up, and deliver the messagefrom Colonel Sherburne. He hoped they weren’t just beingshy about waking someone up. Kids. You give them thefreedom to do something on their own and they screw it up.But Berty decided to be patient a little while longer. PerhapsStocking was not at home. He’d give them fifteen moreminutes. If they weren’t back by then, he’d wake everybodyup and embarrass the twins at the same time.

patriots redcoats and spies

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